Inside Llewyn Davis (2014)

Rating: 5/5

I am a sucker for a musician movie, especially if it is set anywhere between the eras of the beatniks and the rock revolution. This is a crazy, funky time that filmmakers can have a lot of fun recreating, and the prolific Coen Brothers have landed firmly on their feet with their first feature since True Grit - folk drama Inside Llewyn Davis. It is 1961 in the Greenwich Village, and for an uncertain period of perhaps a few days or perhaps a few weeks ("feels like it was a long time..."), we hitch a ride with struggling, now-solo folk musician Llewyn Davis, whom life has dealt a whole lotta lemons. "Everything you touch turns to s**t, like King Midas' idiot brother!" This harsh analysis is unfortunately true of Llewyn's life: whether wittingly or not, nothing ever works out for him. There is no doubt that Llewyn joins a wall of well-loved Coen anti-heroes, but matters out of his control seem to take just as damning an approach as those he brings upon himself. 

This is one of those pictures you will struggle to identify the plot of. The situation is more than obvious, but it does not amount, so much, to a plot. This is one of those pictures you will enjoy for the richness of its characters, its in-depth understanding of people, and the stylish aura it conjures. I cannot say that any particular issue or episode is launched at the beginning and resolved by the end - that's not how it works. Instead, we are treated to beautifully written characters, portrayed by perfectly cast actors, and a recreation of an era so beautiful that you feel at ease just watching. The Coens pay such attention to character development; even those with just a few lines have a well-established sense of self, to the point where we can make our own assumptions as to what they get up to once they are out of the picture. One of my favourites, for example, was soldier/musician Troy Nelson (Stark Sands), who is crashing with Llewyn's sort-of-friend-sort-of-lover Jean (Carey Mulligan) and her happy-go-lucky boyfriend Jim (Justin Timberlake, to perfection). In the morning after a gig, Llewyn wakes on the floor to Troy sitting eating cereal right next to him. His air of contentment, followed by an unknowingly exaggerated slurp of leftover milk and the exclamation "Well, that was great!" is something that would be near-impossible to imitate to such comic effect. This same care is given to each character - simultaneously by their creators and the actor portraying them - forming an incredibly rounded and human picture.

The same is to be said for the movie's level of comedy. It's not of the comedy genre, and the writers (I don't believe) set out to be funny with it. What they do is capture reasonable snippets of real-life-funny, usually created by a character's eccentricity, which doesn't feel forced, scripted, or even planned. This is situational humour, sparsely distributed throughout, and therefore all the more enjoyable. We don't see these jokes (if that is really what you'd call them) coming, and there is no tedious set-up for an unimpressive comic payoff. Consider, for example, the grumpy old wife of Llewyn's manager, whose response to her husband's absence at the office is, "He's at a funeral. Mel goes to a lot of funerals - he likes people!"

But now to our protagonist, Mr. Llewyn Davis, played with mastery by the beautiful Oscar Isaac, whose presence, from his musical performance, to his vocal control, to his astounding face, is everything the role could dream of. This incredibly captivating actor has a rather short and unglorified record before Llewyn Davis, but I suspect this is the first step in an amazing career for him. Not only does he capture the very essence of every good folk musician in his performance, but he presents us with a character we shouldn't really like and makes us love him. It's not that we shouldn't like him because he's bad, but he is quick-tempered, presumptuous and sometimes confrontational. The only entity to lighten his forever depressed and defensive manner is Jean, an aggressive, foul-mouthed "careerist" who may be pregnant with Llewyn's child (only it could also be Timberlake's, and 1961 was sadly lacking televised paternity tests). "All you do is spout bitchery," he tells her, but that's not all. She has an uncanny way of making her own infidelity and subsequent pregnancy somehow Llewyn's fault. Hers is the only BS he will sit and take.

Shall I attempt a synopsis? Here goes...amid the possibility of having impregnated his best friend's girlfriend, Llewyn is slowly but surely exhausting every willing friend with a couch upon which to crash, it's a New York winter and he has only a corduroy jacket (and a friend's fugitive tabby cat), and the suicide of his former musical partner has taken a toll on his enthusiasm, and others' willingness to book him. The truth is, he is a very good folk musician, with a lot of soul, a beautiful voice and good guitar skills. Only a big box of his unsold solo records is a constant reminder that his talent doesn't make money. To counter this very obvious impediment comes an amusingly poignant remark from the friend of a friend, who exclaims, "I envy your business. I bet one hit can setcha up for life!" This is just after Llewyn accepts $200 and no royalties for an out-of-the-blue session. This is really the life of Llewyn Davis. He goes places, he plays gigs, but none of it forms an obligatory three-act performance. All we have to go on is the humanity of it all, and how easily we can sympathise with Llewyn, despite him not being the particularly charitable, lovey-dovey or cavalier man you'd usually expect. He has issues, feelings and fears, and every wonderful element of this film comes together with perfect clarity to show us a man we can feel for. That's all that's really asked of us.

Inside Llewyn Davis is (yep, I'm gonna say it again, and it's still only January!) one of the best films of the year, and shows the Coen brothers back in top form. I'm sure those who lived through the '60s will be happy to bask in the film's nostalgic glory, and those of us who didn't will be happy to bask in the film's nostalgic glory, and simultaneously come to terms with being born too late.